Movie Nights & Ice cream
“Back in black, I hit the sack…”
Noise.
“I’ve been too long, I’m glad to be back…”
I groan. What was that noise?
“Yes I’ve let loose, from the noose, that’s kept me hanging about…”
I blearily open one eye, and I’m immediately met with the face of a grinning Peter. I scream.
“AHHHHHHHHH!”
Surprise forms quickly on Peter’s face, and he screams too.
“AHhhHhhHHhhHh!?”
Peter jumps, and sticks himself on the ceiling, his face peering down at me from above. Then it hits me, and I push myself into a sitting position from the light brown couch I was laid on. It was Lab Weekend. Peter was supposed to be spending the whole weekend with me, which I secretly loved more than I showed.
Peter’s questioning eyes are suddenly in my face. I snort, and stand up.
“What are you doing on the ceiling, ‘Roos?”
I watch as a cherry-red blush of embarrassment spreads across Peter’s face, and he falls off the ceiling, landing in a crumpled heap on the floor, before scrambling to his feet. “Mister Stark! I just- its Lab Weekend today, and you weren’t awake, and I wanted to do something funny to wake you up, and-” he pauses, a quizzical expression forming on his face.
“Mister Stark, why were you even asleep in the first place? It’s 6pm on a Friday night.”
I take a deep breath in.
“Kid, I was out with Rhodey, we were out ‘til 4am. I was tired.”
Not exactly a lie- I had been awake until 4am, but I wasn’t with Rhodey. At around 11:30pm, there’d been a knock on my door, and I’d expected it to be Natasha with another nightmare, or Clint. But it wasn’t- the person was Wanda, and that had completely shook me. She’d been struggling to fit back in with the everyday routine the Avengers kept, and Vision hadn’t been talking to her a whole lot.
She was plagued with nightmares of Pietro, and she’d had no one else to go to. She hadn’t wanted to bother any of the others, who were probably all asleep, so why not go to the man who barely slept anyways? So she’d come, and we’d sat on my bed, and she’d talked. For hours and hours, she told me stories about Pietro and her mom and dad.
In return, I’d told her stories about my childhood, growing up with an absent, deadbeat dad, and a mom who was too scared to stand up to said dad. And then I’d gone on to tell about my time at MIT, with Rhodey, and some of the thing we’d accomplished in that time. At around 4am, she’d gone back to her own room, and I’d gone to sleep, too.
I wouldn’t tell Peter about any of this though, because it was personal to Wanda, and she probably didn’t want everyone to know about her nightmares.
I grin up at the kid.
“Come on, now, Clint and Tasha are probably waiting for us.”
With that, he’s got a broad smile on his face, the kind that could light up a whole damn Christmas tree if he tried- the smile that made would make me cave in and buy anything that he’d want, because ‘Roos is my kid and I’d do anything, as his only paternal figure involved in his life.
I would sacrifice the whole entire world for him.
The thought lingers for a few seconds, as I pull myself up from the couch, Peter sniggering as I groaned, arching my back out to crack the aches out of it. Rolling my eyes at him, I spoke sarcastically.
“Come on now, baby spider, help your old man out.” This elicits another snigger out of Peter, and then I realise I’m smiling, and it’s completely because of ‘Roos.
If you’d told a 20 year old me that I would one day have my own kid and even hold paternal instincts over one, I’d have laughed and called you ‘drunk’ or ‘crazy’ for even suggesting such a thing.
As Peter and I exit my lab, I hear a beeping from behind us- so I turn around, and am immediately faced with one of my oldest AIs, the one that I made whilst at MIT with Rhodey.
I love Dum-E with all my heart, but I just didn’t want to think about MIT.
“C’mon, Mister Stark, I didn’t think that you were that much of an old man.”
Shaking my head clear, I put on my best, well-practised ‘everything is fine, nothing is wrong’ smile and walked out of the lab.
As Peter and I walked down the corridor, (no, bounced would be more of an appropriate word for Peter, as he seemed full of this energy and sometimes Tony wondered how on earth the kid could have so much energy, all the time) he struck up conversation.
“What’s this I hear about a new avengers recruit?”
Oh. Yes.
I forgot that I hadn’t yet told Peter about Thomas.
Internally, I shudder. When had I started calling him Thomas?
I duck my head down and screw my face up in embarrassment, for a second. When I lift my head up, he’s right there, face-right-in-mine style.
“Tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me tell me.” He chants, as I chuckle.
“Sometimes I wonder where you get all of this energy from, ‘Roos.”
He rolls his eyes at me.
“Thomas Reeves, he’s the new…. Recruit.” I begin, carefully.
“Ross doesn’t believe that we, as a team, aren’t able to function without some internal help from the World Council themselves.”
Peter pauses.
“Ross… the World Council… aren’t those guys the idiots that basically fuelled the Civil War, a few years back?”
Unexpectedly, I gave a little shudder at the thought.
The Civil War had been a very… unexpected turn in my life. Of course, it brought me to Peter- for which I will never be able to forget, because Peter was my world, but everything had gotten way too messy.
(Especially when Cap had buried his shield deep into my chest, leaving me out in the cold snow for days, unable to move as I slowly froze in that wasteland that I would never, ever be able to remove from my nightmares-)
No. I needed to get all of that out of my head- at least, for the time being. I couldn’t afford to crumble to pieces- not today, not tomorrow, not ever. Pull yourself together, Tony.
I realise that Peter’s staring at me, with a face that says, ‘I’m waiting for an answer’.
“Yes,” I begin, opening and closing my mouth several times, as if I were unable to form the words that I wanted to speak, “I suppose you could put it that way. I suppose… I don’t think that ‘Civil War’ as you put it, would’ve happened if it hadn’t been for their interference.”
I hate to admit this to myself. The Avengers had been my family for years, and it was almost real to me when it had all come tumbling down, crashing onto the ground with a trembling, resonating thud. We were still picking up the pieces of the damage now; still helping people deal with the accidents we always seemed to bring about.
Peter sighs, and I think to myself that it sounds way too sad, way too heavy for a 16-year-old kid who should be more worried about when he’s next got a high-school party to go too- not about how many people he can save in one night, and what about the few that he hadn’t managed to get to in time?. He’s grown up far too quickly and I am determined to help him enjoy the last of his teenage years- that reminds me, we should hurry up, for movie night.
So, I nudge Peter’s shoulder and grin at him, “Now really, let’s go, movie night is calling.”
I feel immensely proud in that second as Peter’s whole face lights up like a Christmas tree, and then he’s bounding down the corridor like an over-excited puppy, and my heart can’t help but to melt at the sight of it.
When we reach the living room, Natasha and Clint are standing there together, huddled up in a corner together, talking. As Natasha sees Peter, she immediately pulls away from the conversation and walks up to Peter, drawing him into a hug.
“Мой маленький паучок” she says. Peter glows happily in the hug. Pretty much the only person that Natasha is soft for is Peter- to her, he’s her little spider, and to that, it means that he’s practically her entire world, to my knowledge.
Clint rolls his eyes- not rudely, though. “Come on, guys. We have to pick a film before it’s too late.”
Peter pulls out of Natasha’s embrace and sticks out his tongue at Clint. Instantly, me and Natasha are snickering at Clint, as he pretend-pouts in disappointment.
I don’t really know when these guys became like my family, but I wouldn’t swap them for the world.
I’m just beginning to settle myself down on the soft, marine-blue couch, Peter nestled into my side, head resting on my shoulder, when his voice timidly pipes up from next to me.
“Tony…”
“Yes, ‘Roos?”
“I forgot to make the popcorn… please can you make it really quickly?”
I glance down at him- and I immediately regret it.
He’s staring up at me, puppy-dog eyes in full use, a pout forming on his lips.
That’s when I cave in.
“Of course. Guys, I’ll be right back.”
I hoist myself up from the warmth of the sofa, and stroll out of the room, into the kitchen, at a fast pace- even though the film that we’d decided to watch was one I’d seen before.
I still didn’t want to miss a second of this precious time.
Not like how I’d wasted away my 20s, getting drunk and high almost every day, going to parties that lasted days on end and ending up in hospital with alcohol poisoning, yet again.
I’d wasted all that time, but I finally had my chance to make up for it all, and I wasn’t going to waste a single second. Not again- not ever. The man of my past was a complete, utter mess.
I grab the popcorn off the countertop and read the side instructions. Unfold the package and put in the microwave for 3 minutes. I can do that. Easy peasy.
I do as the recipe says, and quickly I’ve pressed the start button, the inside of the microwave lighting up as the popcorn package circled around, the sound of the microwave’s humming filling room. For just a second, I squeeze my eyes shut, letting the humming take over my brain, but then- I feel the brush of fingertips on my hips.
My eyes fly open in surprise, and I tense every muscle in my body up.
I’m not entirely sure who it is, until I feel hands grip more firmly around my hips; the nuzzling of a stubbly beard against the side of my face; the heavy breathing in my ear.
When he speaks, my heart drops out of my chest.
“Tony…” Thomas’s usually harsh, snappy voice is… different, this time- he’s now speaking in low, whispered tones, dragging out his words. If I’d thought that Thomas’s snappiness had bee bad earlier, then I don’t know what I would call this voice.
“Tony, you look so good today…” no sooner are the words spoken do I then feel his legs come up behind me, pushing against mine. Now, it’s like his whole body is touching mine and oh my god, why is he doing this. Suddenly, I remember all those times in college with Tiberius and my lungs feel like they’re squeezing together, constricting my breathing and no please, this can’t be happening right now, not here and-
“I want you, Tony.” Thomas purrs. I can barely blink back the tears forming in my eyes, a shudder of anxiety passing through my body.
“Tony! Hurry up, you’ve been ages!”
Clint’s voice.
Oh, thank God.
Thomas startles and seconds later, his hands have moved away, and it’s like he was never there in the first place. All to remind me that he actually was there was the ache on my hips, where there’d certainly be bruising tomorrow from Thomas gripping too hard.
A beat passes, and then there’s a hand on my shoulder. I jump and spin around, flailing my arms around in panic, landing a punch on the person.
And then they’re doubled over, wheezing, and I blink away the haze in my vision, and it’s Clint.
Oh.
Clint, who was so kind and helpful. Clint, who’d gone from being a stranger to one of the people I care most about in the world.
I shuffle backwards, awkwardness immediately growing in my and overflowing. I can feel my face burning, and I wonder if it’s gone red.
“Gosh, Tony..” Clint wheezes, letting out a breathy chuckle as he pulls himself back into an upright position. “I didn’t know you could throw a punch so well.”
I bring my hand up again, but this time I rub it against the back of my head. Embarrassment is curdling through me.
“Yeah, well…” I stutter, chewing on my bottom lip anxiously. “I guess I just… know…”
Now Clint’s smiling at me, and he’s rolling his eyes, and I know he’s not mad at me.
It’s as if my unreleased anxiety is a balloon, and it’s been struck with a pin. In one great whoosh, it suddenly all leaves me, and I’m just left feeling apologetic.
“Clint, I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realise it was you…” I try to apologise, but Clint just waves me off. He can be too nice for his own good, sometimes.
“Nah, it’s all good man. Now where’s that popcorn?”
I spin around to the microwave. Oh, yeah. The popcorn. I’d kind of forgotten about in amidst everything that had gone on. The microwave has turned off, the popcorn sitting there inside almost forlornly, like it’s upset at being forgotten.
As I watch, Clint opens up the microwave door, and grabs the bag of popcorn, peeking inside it. “It looks perfect!” he grins up at me. I attempt a weak smile back.
It must’ve not been very convincing, because the smile on his face turns to a worried look.
“Are you sure that you’re okay? Did anything happen?”
I shake my head at him. If I were to speak right now, I’d probably end up spilling about what occurred, but I couldn’t do that, no. When I’d spoken up to someone about what Tiberius had been doing to me all those years ago, no one had really cared. They’d told me to grow up, because it didn’t matter, and I was just being some sore wimpy, looser kid who needs to stop being a child and start being a man, pronto.
So there, I couldn’t tell anyone.
“Okayyyyy…” With a slightly confused look on his face, Clint turns around, and nonchalantly starts walking back into the living room. “Come on, Tony!” he calls, and I’m inclined to follow him. I can’t shake off the lingering feeling that what had happened was barely the tip of the iceberg, but I didn’t want to ruin the movie night. Besides, it was a good film.
I wake up the following day in my bedroom. Wow, I think to myself, what a rare occurrence. On a typical day, I will wake up on the couch in my workshop, or my lab, or even sometimes in an empty bathtub, when I’d meant to draw myself a bath but never gotten round to it.
For some reason, it felt like it was going to be a good day. The sunshine was peeking through my curtains, I’d actually managed to get a proper amount of sleep today, and I was going to be grabbing ice-cream with Peter and Rhodey today.
A day couldn’t possibly get any better than this, I suppose.
As I jump out of my bed, I haul my pyjamas off, pulling on another one of my many ACDC shirts, with a pair of grey pants. Classic Tony style. As I practically skipped up the corridor of the Avengers Sleeping Quarters, I hummed the tune to ‘Back in Black’.
Today, I was not the first one awake. To my surprise, I was actually one of the last. In the kitchen, Wanda, Clint, Natasha and Peter were all sad at the table together, whilst Steve huddled in the corner with Bucky. Sam was in the kitchen, smelling of fresh pinewood, and was hustling about, cooking plates of eggs and bacon and waffles, and more.
My mouth watered at the smell of it all.
“Wow, Sam,” I began, strolling over to where Sam was tending to the pans and pots. “This all smells super good.”
Sam side-eyes a smirk at me. “Oh, I know it does. My mom used to give me, and my sister cooking lessons. She told us that it was going to be an extremely helpful skill to have, later in life. Guess that’s another thing she was right about, as everyone here claims to be useless at cooking.”
I let an easy smile form on my mouth. “Damn right she was correct. Can I steal a waffle please? I have… places to be, soon.”
Without a seconds thought, the plate of waffles is pushed towards me. “Have as many as you want. There’ll be plenty to go around this lot.”
I look Sam in the eyes, gratefully. “Thanks so much, Sam”
And then he nods at me, so I turn back around, taking my first bite off the corner of the waffle. I resist the urge to moan, as the sweet taste brings me back to this one memory, where my Aunt Peggy had cooked waffles for me this one Sunday morning, when Howard was out on a business trip and my mom was busy at a sewing class. Grabbing my pill box off the side, I open todays date- Saturday- and empty it out onto my palm, swallowing down the pills as quickly as I physically can.
“Sensational.” I mutter to myself, sarcastically, ruffling Peter’s hair with my free hand, as I walk out of the kitchen, taking another bite out of the waffle.
Walking out of the lobby was one of the times when I felt the most arrogant yet shy about myself. Everyone would be inevitably staring at me, gawking at me like I was some caged animal at a zoo. It made me feel confident, yet sometimes it just made me want to curl away and die in a hole, or similar. Fidgeting, I stare straight ahead of me, being careful not to stumble or misstep. Waiting directly outside of the Tower is one of my personal drivers, with one of the few cars that I would actually trust people to not destroy.
The driver opens the door for me, and I slide onto the plush, leather seats, stretching my legs out in appreciation. God, this car always smells as fresh as the day I bought it, a few years back, and I loved it. I just loved the smell of fresh, new car so, so much.
Clearing my throat, I lean forward to where the driver has just taken his seat at the wheel. “You know where you’re supposed to be taking me, right?”
Staring straight ahead, the driver makes no facial expressions nor emotions as he conveys his words. He’s pure professionality. “Yes, Mr Stark.”
Satisfied, I lean back, and fully stretch out like a cat. Being rich did have its benefits- for one, cars like these.
“So, Tony. We have a lot to cover in today’s session.”
I sit there, waiting for her to continue.
“You’re now…” she hurriedly checks her documents, “two months sober of alcohol, and five months clean of drugs?”
I nod in response. In return, I get a beaming smile- one that makes me both want to smile back, and want to glare back at her. I do neither.
“That’s really good, really great work, Tony! And how has it made you feel.”
I sigh. Here we go. God, I hated going to my therapist, as lovely as she was. All this secret-spilling, emotion-sharing shit.
“I’m feeling… proud, I suppose? I mean, it’s certainly had it’s tough moments, but I’ve managed to hang on now that I have people worth hanging on for.”
Out comes the notebook, and she’s scribbling stuff down like the world will end if she doesn’t.
“Anything else?” she prompts, holding the notebook close to her in anticipation.
I groan. “I suppose so… I’ve felt a bit… disgusting, because sometimes it just feels totally weird to not be as high as a kite day in, day out. Being fully conscious, being in my body just feels odd.”
Nodding to me, she starts scribbling things down faster. “And now you’re also clean of self-harm, Tony? How’s that working out for you?”
I’m now nodding so much; it feels like my head is going to bounce off my head.
“Great, great, it’s all great. Yeah, sometimes it does feel like a whole new me.”
It doesn’t feel like a whole new me. Mostly, I just feel like myself, just a slightly happier and healthier version of myself. I guess that’s what having a proper family who cares about you does to you, right?
I have my moments, but overall, I can just forget that there was even anything wrong with me in the first place.
“Great! And you’ve reported no new panic attacks, so I trust that the Zoloft will be starting to work properly soon, since we only got you on it two weeks ago?”
I’m still nodding furiously. I if keep doing this, I think I might pass out.
“That’s awesome. Keep up the good work, yeah? Anything else you want to mention before we finish for today?”
I hesitate. If I so desired, I could spill to her about Thomas- how he’s making me uncomfortable, and how I wish to be left alone by him.
But I can’t- I don’t think I have the strength for that, yet. I just shake my head.
Flickering her eyes back down to the notebook, she gives a satisfied grin. “Good. Well, thanks for joining me today, Tony, and if you have any problems or queries, do not hesitate to give me a call or a message. I can easily slot you in for an emergency appointment.”
I give a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks.” Then, I get up off the chair, grabbing my bag and exiting out of the building as fast as I can.
Outside, I stretch my arms out, then slip my sunglasses onto my face. It’s not honestly the best of disguises, but it’ll do. To my left, there’s a bench, with people sitting on it. I squint my eyes and look closer. Is that… Peter and Rhodey??
Rhodey catches my eyes and stands up to walk up to me. “Hey, man! How’re you doing?”
Has Christmas come early? “I’m great, how are you? And what are you doing here so early? Aren’t we scheduled in later for 2pm? It’s 11:15am.”
Rhodey gives a low chuckle, and then Peter’s bouncing on his feet again. That spider-baby, I swear. He has way too much energy for his own good.
“Yeah, well, the young’un convinced me to come and meet you earlier. Thought it would be a nice surprise.”
I find that I’m actually smiling. “Well, yeah, it is! Thanks, you guys.” I bring Peter and Rhodey into a quick three-some hug.
“Look, the ice cream place is just across the street!” Peter points out to me excitedly. Without giving us a second to process this, he’s grabbed Rhodey’s right hand, and my left hand, and he’s dragging us across the street, into the ice cream parlour.
“Look, look, look! They have mint chocolate chip ice cream, Tony. It’s my favourite!”
Leaning closer to Rhodey, I mutter to him “Damn, Honeybear. What have you done to the kid? He’s practically hyper.”
I hear a snigger come from Rhodey, and he nudges me with his shoulder. “I’m getting rum and raisin ice cream. You decided yet?”
I nod my head, a bit too enthusiastically.
“
Of course. They have bubble-gum ice cream , my favourite. I’ll find us seats whilst you order the ice cream.”
Staring at the ice cream on displays, Rhodey gives a slight nod at me. Turning around, I go to find a seat. To my luck, there’s a free one right close buy, so without hesitation, I slide into the right side of the booth. I have a quick glance around the shop, to see who else is here, and there’s not really anyone who needs focusing on here-
I pause.
Is that- am I really looking at the face of Tiberius Stone right now, in a booth to my left, all by himself?
No, I can’t do this right now. The panic settles in before I can even do anything- before I can start those stupid breathing exercises my therapist gave to me, and then it’s like I’m just…
gone.
I’m not in that moment anymore. Suddenly, it’s all those years back, at MIT. Where some of my core trauma began.
Someone’s shaking me. I don’t feel like I’m connected to myself, like I’m gone- but it’s over in the span of a few seconds, and I’m left there, blinking, as Peter stares at me, eyes full of worry.
I turn my head back around weakly, to where Tiberius is.
There’s not even anyone there. Am I losing my mind?
For the rest of the morning, I go through the motions of the day, disconnecting myself from the world around me. My ice cream tastes like sandpaper. The conversations feel bland. Human touch doesn’t even feel like it’s actually me they’re touching. I go on like a plane in autopilot mode, and no-one seems to notice the difference anyways, when I spent most of the rest of that day holed up in my workshop- not working but staring at this one white spot on the wall. My mind’s constantly on Tiberius, and by the end of the day, I’m so exhausted that I want to cry.
From her room, a few floors up in the Avengers’ Sleeping Quarters, Wanda feels a shudder break through her. In that moment, she knows that something inexplicable is about to go very, very wrong.